


you open always petal by petal myself

by tealmoon



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Underswap, Coming Out, Crossdressing, Fluff, Gender Exploration, Genderfluid Character, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insecurity, Kink Negotiation, Lingerie, M/M, Multi, No on-screen sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Shoe Kink, SpicyHoneyMustard, Suggestive Themes, very mild injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-04-24 00:57:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14344617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealmoon/pseuds/tealmoon
Summary: When Red and Edge suggested crossdressing to him, Stretch thought it'd be a fun diversion at best. He definitely didn't expect things to get so emotional.On the other hand, he did look cute as fuck.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: this is in the same general universe as Garnet Set in Gold, if a little while in the future, so their relationship has developed a bit more.

It took more time than it had with Red for him to become close to Edge. Not sexually close, that had fallen into place without too many hiccups. Knowing him _personally_ , instead of just as Red’s shouty, posturing (hot) brother, took longer. Literal months before they were close enough that he could go into Edge’s room and not wonder if he was an invader.

They were post-fuck, and he lounged on Edge’s bed, unwrapping a lollipop, while Edge walked over to the closet to towel off and dress himself. That was kind of a pity; he looked amazing completely bare-boned like that, bones gleaming with sweat. He opened the doors and picked out something clean, though he could’ve just put on the clothing he had been wearing before the fucking occurred. (Stretch had been wearing this same outfit for the last two days.) Then he paused, hand on the door, halfway to closing it, and turned back to Stretch. Past his shoulder, he could see what looked like a full-length red ball gown and wondered if he was having a post-coital hallucination. Was that silk?

Maybe looking at that was what gave him the idea when he looked at Stretch. “Have you ever considered introducing different clothing styles into our sex life?”

“You mean like latex and shit? No offense, but something that tight would make me feel like I’m suffocating, no matter how shiny and hot it looks. Double no on face masks, that shit is way too claustrophobic.” Not that he had ever tried it, but Slim had shown him pictures before he realized that maybe his alternate really _was_ too kinky for him to handle.

He sighed. “I don’t mean latex, though your disinterest is noted. I know you haven’t indicated any gender fluidity, but that doesn’t forbid you from trying women’s clothing. Have you ever considered a skirt before? Or a sundress?” Already as he talked, Edge sounded disheartened. Assuming he’d say no? Or get all fussy about his masculinity?

“Nah, never thought about it before, but it could be hot. Easy access in those short little skirts. And maybe summoning something to fill a shirt out?” He gestured in front of his bare ribs, not bringing up that he had never tried to form anything for himself aside from junk. Couldn’t even reliably form tentacles, though he had given it his all. If either of them wanted that, he was shit out of luck, but the words spilled out anyway. It was hard not to feel like he didn’t bring that much to the table sexually. Maybe this would help.

What was so bad about a skirt, anyway? Edge would clearly like it, and Red was up for most things. And if it kept them from getting bored at how vanilla he was, then sure, pretty him up, why not?

(When he asked Red about it later, he just laughed and swiped the cigarette from between his teeth, taking a drag. “Sure. It’s not really my thing as much as it’s Boss’s, though. He looks better in a skirt than I do, with those legs for days. I just look tubby and weird. You into that?”

Maybe Stretch’s contemplative silence sounded like an accusation, because he huffed, looking annoyed. “Just don’t give him shit about dressing up in women’s clothes, right? It’s hot and it doesn’t hurt anybody. Feel proud that he trusts you enough to want to do it with you too.”

“Nah man, no judgment here. This is a kinkshame-free zone.” And to soothe the tension, he leaned over to kiss him, wondering what he was getting into. He still hadn’t answered Red’s question.)

-

Apparently, what he was getting into was being thoroughly teased and prodded about his fashion choices by a pair of Hot Topic brotherfuckers. It didn’t help that he had no idea what to look for, since apparently orange wasn’t in season or something. His vision blurred as he looked at the row of shirts in front of him. Too many choices.

At least they weren’t getting any odd looks. Had Edge shopped here before? He seemed to know his way around, but maybe that was just his way of striding confidently into everything. Were the employees unfazed because they knew him, or was this too classy of an establishment to be fussy about a trio of clearly dude skeletons, two of them extremely scruffy, lingering in the women’s section?

...How was he supposed to look fancy for his boyfriends when he couldn’t figure out what ‘fancy’ was? He wasn’t sure if he felt comfortable enough to wave one of the drifting employees over to ask for help or a recommendation.

“You know, I’m doing this for you guys. Why don’t you two pick for me?” That was probably giving them a blank check, but wasn’t the whole point to look appealing to them? Whatever they picked would probably count, and he could veto anything too crazy.

Their faces both lit up, Edge’s with excitement (that he tried to tamp down on a second later) and Red’s with the perverted thoughts that were clearly running through his head. It wasn’t a fetish shop or anything, how wild could he get? And if he put up more than joking resistance, then Red would back down. They had been together long enough that he could be 80% certain on that.

Edge’s hand fell on his elbow, and he led him over to a different rack. “Considering how much mileage you get from that single ratty tank top of yours, I assume more of the same would appeal?” Maybe that was a good idea. A lot of them had much thinner straps than he was used to, and the lace and glitter was different than plain black, but it was still pretty familiar to the shirts he preferred. (Of which he had three, thank you very much. Of course that was from his brother’s insistence, but it still counted.) He only had to nod, and Edge already grabbed up a handful of shirts, examining the size tags.

“Human clothing sizes are absurd, and even if they were labeled in a more reasonable way, the size _I_ prefer means very little to you. Just because it’s supposed to be alluring doesn’t mean that you should ignore your comfort.” Of course—as interested as he was, he wasn’t sure how long that would last if he could barely move in it. “Do any of these appeal?”

“Uh-” Suddenly he was juggling a pile of fabric, trying to untangle them without dropping any. Feeling awkward, he examined each one, stroking the fabric to see if it it’d be comfortable enough. No sense in buying something to get fucked in if all he’d be able to think about was how scratchy it was. Yeah, one of them had a lace hem that looked okay, if you were into that sort of thing, but it grated against his phalanges. Wearing normally might not be that bad, but if it got shoved up his ribs so Red could fondle him or something like that, that shit’d itch like crazy.

“Maybe no lace?” He handed that one back to Edge, who nodded solemnly. “The light purple’s okay, I guess, but I’ve got no idea what colors I’d look good in.”

“Anything pastel might work if...” He lowered his voice, although there wasn’t anyone in hearing range. “If you’re going for a more _innocent_ look. Something cute and mischievous. The coloring of your magic could clash somewhat, but it’s more important that you like it, rather than what fashion dictates. If you’re not interested in taking on a persona, however, you could stick with your normal colors. I don’t see anything in that particular shade of orange, but there’s plenty of black.”

“So you’ll still love me if I look absolutely awful?” he teased. “No fashion police roleplay?”

“There’s no goddamn way you could look awful in something like that,” Red cut in. “And if Boss kicks you out of bed for fashion crimes, you can come to mine instead.”

Edge snorted. “As if I would do that for something so trivial. Now—what are your feelings on prints?”

He was practically interrogated over his preferences as they moved along the racks: what necklines he wanted, preferred width of shoulder straps, whether he was okay with sequins. Half of his answers were confusion or completely neutral, but it seemed enough for Edge to accumulate a small mountain of shirts. Surely he wasn’t going to buy that many? He expected only two or three at most; how adventurous was he supposed to be on their dime?

That part wasn’t so bad, though. If he wore one of those tank tops under his hoodie, no one would know—it’d be a secret that only they would get to see. Well, them and Blue, who was his own problem. His big bro was an understanding person, yeah, but Stretch wasn’t so sure he wanted Blue to know that he was wearing lady clothes. Would he have to keep them at Edge’s place to avoid them being found in a laundry raid?

But by the time they got to bottoms, he was starting to feel overwhelmed. He knew nothing about skirts, and definitely less than nothing about all the terms Edge was throwing at him. How was he supposed to have an opinion on skirt length when he had never worn one in his life? Ditto with hotpants. Did he have the iliac crests to pull those off?

When Red held up a wisp of a skirt, leering at him, he felt himself falter. He and Edge might have been versions of the same template, but he didn’t have the legs to pull that off. Would it actually cover his pelvis? He’d look ridiculous. All that talk about him looking ‘cute and innocent’ wouldn’t pass if a skirt couldn’t cover the scars on his femurs. And if the whole point was to look at him...

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now,” Edge said, his voice close and gentle. Red luckily put the skirt down to wrap an arm around him, and the vice around his ribs eased a few centimeters once it was out of view. Had his thoughts really been that obvious? “Are we pushing too fast?”

“I know I’m supposed to pick something short, but is...is any of this going to look good? Are you guys just doing a long con so you can laugh at me when I’ve made an idiot out of myself? I know you’re really into this, but we all know I’m gonna look awful in something like that.” He gestured at the racks in front of them.

“Stretch. _Papyrus_. What we want is insignificant in comparison to your comfort. Do _you_ want a short skirt at all? You can choose something different if you’re not comfortable with this.”

“For it to be a sexy thing, I can’t wear something down to my ankles—”

“Stretch. _Do you want a short skirt_?” He wondered if any of the store employees were starting to stare, if someone was going to come over and ask if they were alright? Or worse, to say that they were making a scene and needed to leave. Edge’s shoulder was conveniently right there, so he buried his face against it, glad that he didn’t have to look at them.

Why was this such a big deal? They had both seen him naked plenty of times, and if everyone got naked, then their scars vastly outnumbered his own. There had been nude photos too, and the sort of sex that got them up close and personal with his femurs and all the marks he had left on them. It wasn’t a secret, so why was he so fucked up over this now?

But they had been patient enough with him that the least he could do would be to try and be honest. Even if they decided he wasn’t worth the effort anymore. “It’s my femurs, right? They’re all messed up. Something that short... I wouldn’t be able to cover them at all. What’s the point in trying to look cute and innocent when my bones are that gouged?” Right as the words came out, he wondered if that was insulting. Wasn’t he implying that _they_ were ugly too, for having more marks than him? That’d be one way to get out of this situation: to piss them both off enough that they’d break up with him right there.

He almost wanted Red to get pissed off at him, instead of shuffling closer to hug him. “Awww, honey, no. You’d look cute as fuck in whatever, don’t think like that.”

“If we haven’t been appreciative enough of your appearance—”

“Don’t. They’re my own bullshit issues, you don’t have to fix any of it. It’s not about anything you guys did or didn’t do.”

“But we can support you,” Edge said, taking his hand. “At the very least, we can keep assuring you that your scars are as beautiful as ours. Will you permit us that?”

He wasn’t sure if it was possible to believe in that. The marks on their bodies were proof of their survival, of how strong they had to be to make it through alive. His were a sign of his weakness, and it didn’t seem right comparing the two. “I...”

Red snapped his fingers suddenly, and the two of them stared at him. “Dunno if this place has any, but what about some socks? Some thigh highs would cover that up, right? All the coverage you need, just not the important parts.” He winked just in case they hadn’t caught on. “What d’you think? Not that your bare legs wouldn’t be just as hot, but if it’d make you feel better, then why not?”

“W-would that actually work?” It seemed so easy that he was a little sideswiped by the idea. If they were long enough, wouldn’t it cover everything it needed to without getting in the way? And he wouldn’t have to walk around with bare legs...

“No, I think they carry some,” Edge said. He held out a hand. “If you’re interested?”

Edge led him over to a different section of the store, and he tried not to glance towards the racks of underwear, feeling like a creep. It was creepy enough that he was looking for thigh highs, which he had barely seen outside of anime. There weren’t a lot of options for socks above the knee, and fewer that he’d want to wear. Edge looked incredulously at the array of striped socks, but luckily Red swooped in to break up the awkward moment.

“Not gonna kinkshame you, babe, but I’m thinking we’d need to have a talk about boundaries and shit before anybody brought stripes into the bedroom, y’know? Not that it’s off the table entirely, but let’s not jump into that.”

“Wait, seriously? I mean, not to judge anyone, but—I’ve never—not that it’s _bad_ necessarily...”

“There’s no need to get so flustered. I doubt there’s much you could think of that would scandalize us,” Edge said, though he looked a little disconcerted at all of the stripes before them. Stretch had never seen adult-sized striped clothing before coming to the surface, and though he’d had plenty of time to get used to it, sometimes it still caught him off guard.

There weren’t that many options left if he filtered out the stripes, fishnets, and sheer socks (didn’t that defeat the purpose of wearing them?) but there were a few sets of cotton socks in varying pastel colors, and they looked long enough when he unfolded one.

“Is this gonna fit on skeletal legs, or will it fall down the second I take a step?”

“Nah, it wouldn’t be that hard to make garters, probably,” Red said with a grin. “Or you probably find some online, but I bet I could make something that’d suit those pretty little thighs of yours a lot better.”

With the socks in hand, he felt a little more confident that he could try things on, and, at the same time, a little more sure that if he had asked, they would have abandoned the cart and dropped the idea without another word. Well, _Red_ would anyway. Edge probably wouldn’t be able to resist putting everything back in its place, but in Stretch’s idealized imagining of it, it’d barely take any time at all, and soon all of it would be put behind them in favor of ice cream and crossdressing being an Edge-only kink.

...But now he wasn’t so sure he wanted to drop it after all.

“No, grab those ones too, they’ve got little bows on them!”

-

 _“hey wanna fool around?”_ He stared at his phone, halfway through pulling a white sock up his leg. He had wanted to get them on before anything else, and he was still wearing his shorts over it. Despite their reassurances, he didn’t want to see his femurs right now. They were a little loose, and maybe he’d need those garters after all, but they were staying up decently so far.

_“dunno if youve noticed but i’m kinda in the middle of something here”_

_“nah i bet you can multitask”_

He wasn’t sure what Red was thinking (if not for the multitask quip, he would have assumed a bathroom handjob once they were done shopping), but he texted an agreement, pretty sure he’d like whatever his boyfriend had thought up. Finally shedding his hoodie and shirt, he picked up the first tank top. With the three-way mirror setup (and those socks on), he could probably take some lewd pictures...

The shirt was a nice color, admittedly, but tighter around the ribcage than he would’ve expected. It wasn’t cling wrap tight, but still uncomfortable. And if he did anything vigorous, which was a given with those two, he’d probably tear half the seams in it. If they wanted to see the outline of every individual bone, they could settle for him being naked instead.

Squirming, he pulled it back over his head...and when his skull was free, there was Red. He tried to disguise his startled yelp with a fit of coughing, but it didn’t fool Edge. “Are you alright in there?”

Would a distraction work? He tried to regain his composure, slinging the shirt over the top of the door. “Yeah, uh, I’m fine. Could you grab me this same one but in one or two sizes bigger?” Hopefully his voice didn’t sound weird; it was hard to keep it together with Red right there, smirking at him with his hands already starting to wander.

The dressing rooms in this place were surprisingly roomy, so adding a second person didn’t crowd it. Red had made sure to sit up on the padded bench so that, if his brother or a store attendant happened to look under the door, his feet wouldn’t be seen. But did he really think that was enough? It was unlikely that Edge wouldn’t notice that Red had conveniently vanished. He held a phalange up to his teeth. It wasn’t so much that Edge would disapprove of them fooling around, but if they were caught and thrown out of the store, his shopping trip would be for nothing.

On the other hand, he had invited Red to fool around with him, he just expected something different than dressing room shenanigans. Or at least shenanigans that involved something other than Red touching himself while watching Stretch dress. He reached for another shirt, trying to simultaneously take his time and not look like a huge idiot. And then, the moment of truth—with an audience to entertain now, it was time to slide his shorts off and try one of the skirts. Feeling awkward, he slowly dragged it up his legs, wondering if it would be too absurd for him to bend over to ‘test the fit.’

...Nah, that’d be ridiculous. The whole store would probably hear Red laughing his coccyx off.

They couldn’t speak without being caught by Edge, but that didn’t deter Red in the least, letting go of his crotch to speak in hands as he watched the show. “If you’re into it, we could get you some panties next. Your boxers are way too long for those skirts. Not that I’m complaining, but _panties_ , Stretch. Think about it.” Punctuated with finger guns, no less.

He hadn’t thought about underwear. If he was only wearing this stuff in their bedrooms, then maybe it’d be fine to go without, but if they did _public_ stuff while he was dressed like this... From the way his soul was fluttering, he couldn’t be sure if he was more anxious or turned on. Red barely kept from whistling at the faint glow underneath the edge of his skirt, and he tried to push his magic back before it could form completely. How were boners going to look in these??

But...when he looked at himself in the mirror, arms and clavicles bared by the tank top, a tiny strip of femurs visible between soft white socks and the hem of a blue and white skirt, he felt...nice? It probably helped that Red was ogling him, proof that he looked desirable and not absurd. He wasn’t sure if it would last outside of this tiny enclosed space, but that feeling had to count for something.

“Hold up, I think this is good for now, I’ve got enough,” Stretch said, knocking on the door; if he didn’t speak up, Edge might tear through the whole store to find more stuff for him to try on. “It’s not a lot, but it’s fine for now.” He waved at Red to make himself scarce as he returned to his normal clothes. It was a little weird, going from “androgynous and decently cute” to regular scruffy Pap.

“That’s acceptable, at least for a single shopping trip,” Edge said back. “To do more might be a bit overwhelming for your first time dressing like this, especially if it doesn’t turn out to suit you.” Did that mean there could be a second time? Red winked and flickered away, probably off to wander out of the bathroom as if he had been in there the whole time. (...Possibly after jerking off as quickly and silently as he could, based on the boner he was supporting. And _Stretch_ had been the one to do that to him.)

All in all, it wasn’t that much clothing: a few shirts, a pair of hotpants, and three skirts, one that was knee length and two that fell to different parts of his femurs, all showing a lot more bone than his covered up, day-to-day wardrobe. And, of course, four pairs of thigh socks, including the ones with the bows. Edge picked up the cost and carefully folded away the receipt, in case Stretch needed to return it. (Or maybe he could give it to Edge instead—it wasn’t quite his style, from what Stretch could guess that was, but they had the same body type. Of course it’d fit him.) Red waited by the exit while they paid, seeming perfectly casual—not bored by any means, but not as perversely excited as he had been minutes ago.

It didn’t fool Edge, who fixed him with a steely glare as they left the store and headed towards the food court. “That was a quality establishment and not a cheap store; I’m not thrilled at the possibility of being banned merely because you cannot control yourself. Please think before you do such a stunt again. Now, did you two take any pictures, or will we have to reenact that once we’re back at home?”

Stretch choked on his own breath as the brothers grinned at each other and then turned a predatory look towards him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from part of “somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond” by E. E. Cummings, because it’s April and also because I can, even if it's unoriginal/unfitting. 
> 
> While writing this, I did have a lot of “Fuck, isn’t everyone going to be bored by careful negotiation and checking in and the Underfells making sure Swap is comfortable and gets to make his own choices? Isn’t this too clean and happy?” but I kinda prefer it this way. Maybe it’s insufficient conflict and too self-indulgent? Or altogether terrible? But writing it makes my brain slightly less full of screaming panic, so I’ll do it anyway. 
> 
>  
> 
> ....Also there might be four chapters instead of three, I don't know.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge and Stretch go shoe shopping and some important things come to light.

He still couldn’t believe he was doing this. Yes, fooling around with Edge and Red in women’s clothing: that had been unexpectedly hot, and even more when Edge joined in. He was slowly realizing how extensive his counterpart’s wardrobe was, especially in comparison to his own, but they were dropping a lot of hints about how they could get him more, if he was interested. It was nice to dress up for them, though most of the time the clothes didn’t stay on for very long, or it got...messy.

This was something different, and he shifted in front of the bathroom mirror, unsure. It might have been easier with a full-length mirror instead, but he didn’t want to sneak into his brother’s room to use his, though Blue wasn’t home. Not like this.

For someone like Edge, it would probably seem pitiful to treat this like a big deal. It was his longest skirt, so his scarred femurs were covered without needing socks, and his boxers wouldn’t show underneath. He still hadn’t bought panties; it seemed wrong to buy some without their input, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure how to screw up the courage to ask about it. The fuck did he know about panties, anyway? Basically nothing.

Why was this a big deal? Literally the only thing that was different was a skirt in place of cargo shorts, and one of those new shirts safely hidden under his hoodie. On the other hand...if someone recognized him... There weren't that many skeletons around, so if they ran into another monster, it’d be over. Yeah, he had a pair of shorts in his inventory, so he’d be able to duck into a bathroom to change if necessary, but if he stumbled into someone at random, there wouldn’t be time to. Knowing his luck, someone would mention to Blue offhand, and everything would be ruined.

But he still wanted to wear it. Maybe he hoped Edge would feel proud of the effort he was trying to put into this kink? His first public crossdressing excursion _and_ shopping for women’s shoes all in one go.

...Still, pretty nerve-wracking. Edge was prompt as ever, but that was still ten minutes of waiting and nearly talking himself out of it and trying to twist around to see if his coccyx looked weird in this skirt.

When he came downstairs, he expected that Edge would be surprised at his daring or tell him to go change clothes because no one else deserved to see him like that, or something. He definitely didn’t expect Edge to be glammed up to the nines, perched on the ratty couch like a gemstone on top of a garbage pile. Shiny leather boots with spiked heels, up to the knees—Stretch was going to be the only one trying on shoes, with Edge in that getup. He wasn’t going to be wrestling those babies off in the middle of a mall store. And, putting him to shame, a tight black blouse under his leather jacket and a long silky-looking skirt with a slit far up the side. Rather than his leather gloves, he was wearing a lacy pair that didn’t cover up past the wrists—red, of course.

He looked like a joke in comparison, but as Edge stood up to greet him, all he could think was that he got to kiss such a beautiful person. And make lewd puns at him and sleep beside him, jagged elbows and blanket stealing and all, and see him when he wasn’t 100% perfectly put together, if he wanted to get sappy about it.

“Are you ready to leave?” Edge gave him a kiss and an approving nod, and it was embarrassing how that single gesture made his soul flutter. This was okay, he looked okay.

“Yeah, let’s get this show on the road.”

He glanced around in case any of his neighbors happened to be around, but the coast was clear. Edge seemed to pick up on his nerves, because he put the top up on the convertible first thing, hiding Stretch from the world. It wouldn’t protect him once they got to the store, but it helped in the moment, and he slumped back in his seat.

“Since it’s hardly an appropriate conversation for a public store, I did want to ask how you’re feeling about this now. Are we getting shoes merely to match your new clothes, or do you want to do something sexual with them?”

“You mean foot stuff?” He grimaced. “Red keeps bringing up footjobs, but I’m not really into it. Not that I’m grossed out by feet, they’re just not sexy to me?”

“If this was a foot thing, why would we be buying you shoes to cover them up?” He said with a laugh.

“I dunno, it’s like wrapping on a present? You guys know more about this stuff, you tell me. What do _you_ get out of absurd stiletto heels?”

“Heels always make me more attractive and intimidating. Most of the time, I wear them for that feeling and nothing more, but my use of shoes in kink can get...elaborate. You don’t seem like the sort of person to want to be on the dominant end of boot licking, or stepping on people. But maybe I’m assuming too much?” He glanced over with a coy smile, seeming to enjoy Stretch’s flustered look.

“Do people seriously do that? I thought that was like...a dominatrix cliche or something. You make Red lick your boots?” He couldn’t help imagining it, and he tried to press his legs together subtly.

Not subtly enough. It seemed like Edge was really enjoying this. “We do boot licking sometimes, yes. It’s usually in combination with a whole range of things, not as a main event. As for literally stepping on him, that’s a treat for special occasions. And don’t look so horrified about it. I’m very careful about where I actually do it and with how much pressure. His genitals are more sturdy than his bones, at any rate.”

...His magic started to cool off at that point. At least he was more knowledgeable about kinks these days; six months ago, any arousal would have been completely dead at that point. “So. Dick-stepping actually is a thing? And he _enjoys_ it?”

“Why not? Is it really that different than other types of sexual pain? You certainly enjoyed Red spanking you the other day.” He sputtered, and it was a good thing Edge was the one driving, or they might’ve crashed by now. “But I suppose, from your reaction, that you’re perhaps disinterested in my heel against your intimates, or trying it out on Red yourself. So what _is_ your intent for all of this?”

He leaned his head back against the headrest, thinking. Would it sound trivial after all of Edge’s reasons? “Mostly that I don’t have any shoes that don’t look grubby as hell compared to the clothes you bought me. That and I’ve spent enough time staring at your ass and legs with those heels of yours—I don’t look like _that_ , but the heels would still help, right?”

“We have the same body, what are you talking about? Heels elongate the legs, and we have the _same legs_.”

No, he definitely didn’t look like that in the back, but Edge would insist on convincing him, and he didn’t really want to get into an argument about his self-image. “Yeah, but there’s something about your legs, right? Leather pants wouldn’t have the same impact on me.”

“Saying that is challenging me to get you in leather eventually, I hope you know, but that’s neither here nor there. You’ll look wonderful in heels, but is that your sole reason?” He snickered at the unintentional pun, and Edge sighed at him. "Don't you start with that, or I'll turn this car around, I swear." 

“Even if I don’t...want to walk on anyone...isn’t it still a kink thing? Or at least something that’s supposed to be hot, like wearing nothing but heels to get fucked, stuff like that. You’ve done it with me, don’t pretend like that’s not a thing. Super high heels are your territory, I’m not trying to _overstep_ or anything, just normal ones. Whatever normal heels count as, I guess.”

“...Stretch. Please tell me that your tone and wording don’t mean you’ve never worn heels before.”

“Uh, when would I have gotten the opportunity?”

They were at a red light, so Edge was free to groan and lean his forehead against the steering wheel for a moment. “You could have brought that up _before_ we were already halfway to a shoe store. Angel preserve us, you’re going to break a fucking ankle.”

“I thought the point was to teach me.”

“Yes, to teach you how to walk seductively, and to do stripteases in heels, that sort of thing. Not to take a few simple steps without killing yourself. If one of us tried to fuck you up against the wall in three inch heels, you’d topple over and crack your head on the wall, no doubt.” He sighed, but when he leaned back up, his confidence was back. “I do enjoy a challenge, though. I won’t let you embarrass yourself too badly in front of a bunch of humans. Or Red; I’m sure he’d enjoy you falling on your ass in an otherwise erotic display.”

“Such a hero.” Under the teasing, he had to wonder why it was such a big deal. It was only walking, wasn’t it? He’d had almost a lifetime of practice. It’d be fine.

-

He hadn’t considered that a bunch of humans would look at them and see two women skeletons. From Edge’s hand in his, that would probably be upgraded to “two skeleton girlfriends,” and... it was neatly confirmed as Edge was scanning the aisles, a somewhat cowed employee coming over to ask if “you ladies needed help finding anything.” Ah yes, a lipstick lesbian skeleton trying to corral her butch girlfriend into new shoes. (Or did he count as futch? He vaguely knew the terms from Undyne. What would she have thought of all of this anyway? He was probably a shitty friend for not keeping her in the loop about all this. He’d have to edit out the kinky parts, but what sort of monster didn’t tell their best friend that they had gotten into crossdressing?)

It probably would have been too awkward to correct her, but Edge didn’t seem phased at all. “We’ll let you know if we need assistance.” He didn’t sound annoyed at being read as a woman, though if he dressed like this in public a lot, it must have been commonplace.

Maybe it was stupid of him not to realize that could happen. Humans were fussier about gender than monsters, weren’t they? It wasn’t _bad_ necessarily, to be mistaken for a woman, but it made him feel under scrutiny. Should he have corrected her? Why hadn’t _Edge_ corrected her? Was this part of the game?

Luckily Edge seemed to know where he was going and looped his arm in his, leading him through the store. “As long as you don’t buy half the store, cost shouldn’t be a problem; I want to treat you. Now, did you bring a pair of your socks? That impacts the fit, however slightly, and I assume you’d feel more comfortable wearing them that way.”

“Really? Thought socks and heels was a fashion sin.” Edge had certainly yelled at him enough for socks and sandals in the past, so why was it suddenly okay if the sandals were elevated? He had hoped to scandalize him with fashion crimes.

Edge sighed, looking put upon. “There’s some controversy about specific types being better suited towards specific types of socks, and a minority of people claim it all looks tacky, but I don’t think you really care all that much, right? It looks better with peep-toed heels and ankle boots, and it’s definitely pushing it with open-toed sandals, but it’s your choice in the end. As long as you stick with your new socks and not those terrible tube socks you insist on.”

“Giving me a lot of power here, considering you’re supposed to find these hot too.” He did have a pair wadded up in his inventory, intending to get them in the laundry and completely forgetting about it, and he sat down on one of the benches to take off his sneakers and pull them on. They were a bit wrinkled, but not smelly enough to complain about.

“I find you hottest when you’re not uncomfortable and self-conscious, so pick whatever you like. You could choose something to match your new clothing so far, or whatever you like best.” Edge started pulling boxes off the shelves. “Consider these, but don’t feel obligated to pick them if they don’t suit you.”

Instead of picking stuff that would match Edge’s vampire dominatrix deal, he passed him boxes of shorter heels, sticking with pastel colors and black and white. Edge also tossed some ballet flats onto the pile. “Don’t look so surprised, I assume you’d like some casual footwear as well. There’s more to women’s shoes than heels! If this doesn’t work out, this is another option.” Once he figured out his size, the flats were surprisingly comfortable, and there was one pair that had little stitched flowers that he couldn’t help wanting.

But he was on a mission. It was time for heels.

-

It really wasn’t as fine as he had hoped for. The first pair he pulled from the box pile didn’t have the needle-thin heels that Edge often favored, elevating him an inch, but he still had doubts once he fumbled the straps into place. How was he supposed to put all of his weight on half of his feet? How had Edge been a _Royal Guard_ in heels _,_ with all the fighting and running that probably required? In the snow and ice??

Luckily most of the other customers were giving them a wide berth, so there weren’t any witnesses as he wobbled up off the bench and into a standing position, clinging to Edge’s hands. He was smirking at Stretch’s shaky stance, but he was also the one thing keeping him upright, so he could be forgiven.

“You can’t walk the same way you do with those atrocious flipflops of yours. You can’t slap the whole of your foot down at once. Heel down first, then toe.” Edge took a few steps to demonstrate, while Stretch clung to the shelf beside him. It was hard to focus on Edge’s feet and not his sexy fucking legs, especially the glimpses of femur through the skirt. “Go ahead, try it out.”

He took a cautious step, waiting for disaster to strike. “You’re slouching,” Edge said, coming over and putting his hands on Stretch’s back, trying to straighten his spine. “Head up and square your shoulders. Just because we’ve been dressing you demurely doesn’t mean you can’t have a strong stance.” The moment Edge let go and stepped away felt like accidentally skipping a stair, that feeling of almost falling before hitting the ground again, and it was amazing he managed to stay standing.

“I’m supposed to look hot, not like I’m ready to fuck someone up.” And how was he supposed to keep an eye on what his feet were doing if he didn’t have his head down? If he looked away, his ankles were going to mutiny.

His steps were tinier than he used to, and he couldn’t imagine how long it would take to walk a mile in these, but with Edge clapping semi-sarcastically, he managed to cross a few aisles to reach him, grabbing onto him. “Do we seriously have to do that for every pair?”

“If you don’t test out the fit in motion, you’re not going to know if it’s right for you. If you had skin, that would give you blisters.”

“Yeah, but I _don’t_ have skin, and I’m not gonna be doing a marathon in these,” he huffed, but he took another pair of heels and wobbled back to the bench. After the first few tries, he was making tiny improvements in walking, but it was all in one-inch elevation, maybe one and a half.

Sure, the cute short heels seemed to match the clothes they had bought him, and he was starting to stumble along without that much difficulty, but one inch heels weren’t the pinnacle of sexy, right? Neither were the wedged sandals Edge handed him: technically they did elevate him two or three inches, but it didn’t count if it was all heel, did it? They weren’t heels, just...weirdly angled shoes. Edge’s boots must have had three or four inch spikes, at least. He needed to ramp things up.

Scanning the shelves, he grabbed for the highest heels he could find, a baby pink pair that had to be a good four inches. The heels were ridiculously narrow, but the toes were wide enough that he could put his weight there.

“I applaud your initiative, but you’re clearly getting ahead of yourself. If you like the color, I’m sure this pair would suit you better.” He tried to hand over a box of more of the same; kitten heels and wedges, for fuck’s sake. Didn’t Edge believe in him? Those weren’t the sort of shoes you could step on someone’s cock in. Not that he wanted to, but it was the principle of the thing.

“C’mon Edge. For once, you _don’t_ want me to make an effort? I did fine with the other ones, why not these?”

Just rising to his feet felt weird. Was this how Edge saw the world all the time? He clung to a shelf as Edge watched him skeptically, as if he was ready to lunge for him in case he fell.

After his first few cramped steps, he tried to do it a bit more daring, with the sexy hip movement that Edge did, often unconsciously. Edge was looking the other way, scanning the shelves for more shoes, so it’d be fine if he looked absurd. He wasn’t sure if he could actually pull this off in the bedroom, not when he’d be so focused on not fucking it up—

His ankle rolled with a popping sound that he hoped was imagined, and he went down hard, shoulder whacking into the corner of a shelf as he slammed into the floor. It had the barest, roughest layer of carpet over what felt like concrete. Clearly not enough customers fell to justify anything more; wasn’t he the most special fuck-up of all?

As he groaned into the carpet, he heard a clatter that might have been Edge hurrying to replace a box of heels before he rushed over. “Are you alright?” He could feel himself being checked, but luckily he had plenty of sleep health; still injured, but not in the decimals.

“I’m good,” he groaned to the floor. “No problem here.”

“Would it be cruel to say ‘I told you so?’” He waved away some other customers at the end of the aisle and easily scooped Stretch up and onto the closest bench. And, of course, having absolutely no balance problems himself.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a dick move.” Gingerly, he started to inch his foot out of the heel. At least he hadn’t taken too much damage, and the whole thing hadn’t detached. He didn’t want to put his ankle and foot back together in front of a bunch of gawking humans. From the way his shoulder was aching, he would probably be bruised on that side too. “Maybe this isn’t for me, babe. Unless you line the bedroom in pillows you don’t mind me stepping to death, don’t think this is gonna work out.”

“You did well with these ones, though,” Edge said, gathering the substandard heels waiting in the maybe pile. “There’s no sense in hurting yourself unnecessarily.” He bit back the urge to remind Edge of all the times that they hurt each other ‘unnecessarily.’ The pain was making him a little loopy, but people were watching now.

“Yeah, but... Those are like ‘preteen going to a piano recital’ heels, not seductive heels. I wanted to do better than this. Wanted something that could turn you guys on. ”

“As always, how _you_ feel is the important thing; don’t think of it as us being disappointed. If you feel attractive in these, okay. If you use these as practice for more daring footwear, okay. But no matter what you choose, you’re desirable to us. So please stop destroying your ankles.”

“The one masochistic act you won’t _stand_ for,” he said very quietly, poking through the maybe pile. Were heels not for him? Maybe his weird, half-formed stiletto dreams would have to go unfulfilled. “You’re just happy I won’t be taller than you, right?”

After a pause, he picked out two pairs of heels—one pink and one white, both with tiny manageable heels—and the flowery ballet flats. He could imagine himself feeling comfortable in these, if not hot. Maybe with enough practice, he could try out one of Edge’s pairs, but right now, that would only lead to more bodily harm.

“It’s a bonus, I must say. I never get over the appeal of leaning down to kiss my lovers. Rest here while I pay for these, alright?” He could hardly object to that, pulling his legs up to rub at his ankle, hoping that the bones weren’t misaligned. His toes looked semi-normal, and at least they were still attached, but his talus had gotten the brunt of it. Maybe he could get his bro to heal it once he got home?

“The first thing to learn while wearing skirts is how to sit properly,” Edge said, and he jumped a little. He had expected paying to take longer than that. “With your legs positioned like that, especially in a shorter skirt, you run the risk of flashing someone with your intimates. Which I would encourage in private, but for right now...”

“Oh, shit.” The skirt was long enough that he wasn’t exposing too much leg or crotch, but there was a good inch of boxers visible, and he rearranged himself. He reached to shove his feet back into his worn sneakers, when Edge knelt down and placed a hand on his ankle. For a second, he thought Edge was only looking, but his fingers glowed green with magic as he ran them over his ankle.

“You can heal?” Over a year dating this guy and he had never heard about this? He would have guessed that such a hardass wouldn’t know healing magic, with a “don’t get hit” philosophy.

“Of course I can! I pride myself on mastering all sorts of magic!” Even though the right ankle had gotten the brunt of his fall, he moved over to the left as well, giving it the same treatment. It still ached once Edge lifted his hands, but it was an improvement over shooting pains. “My healing is of course impeccable, but you should still put some ice on this when I get you home. Shall I carry you to the car?”

“Don’t you dare, people are already staring enough as is. My ankle is messed up, not my magic—if we’re done here, I’ll teleport us out.” Edge helped him stand, and he held onto his arm as he made a shortcut beside the car, uncaring if any humans saw. It took a bit of awkward hopping to get in, and by then, he was seriously reconsidering Edge’s offer.

He could’ve left it there, kissed Edge goodbye after making him carry him over the threshold, and napped until he forgot the questions that had been lingering since they started this little shopping trip. But, as Edge pulled out of the parking lot, he made himself ask.

“Hey, uh. Can we talk for a bit before we get back?” Just saying that was starting to make him nervous, and he wished Edge didn’t have a zero-tolerance ‘no smoking in the car’ rule. No lollipops in his pockets, but he did have some mints, so he hoped that would quiet his sudden jitters. “Can we talk” felt risky enough, let alone what he actually wanted to ask.

“If you’d like.” Edge could have pulled into the next parking lot, but instead he drove on, taking them to the entrance to Ebott’s public gardens. With his ankle like that, they weren’t about to walk through it, but there were flowering trees to look at, bordering the parking lot. Wisteria, he was pretty sure, from what Asgore had taught him.

He couldn’t think of a way to start that wouldn’t sound aggressive, as Edge turned the car off and they sat in silence. He could feel the awkwardness rising with every second he didn’t spit it out, and—

“Is roleplaying like a girl part of this kink? I don’t think I’d _mind_ trying it out, for a little while at least, but usually you guys don’t blindside me with shit. ‘Specially not in public.” Yeah, that was probably not the most eloquent string of words.

“And where did you get that idea?” His voice was artificially calm, but he was also smoothing his skirt and blouse unnecessarily, brushing away nonexistent lint and wrinkles.

“I-I mean. Earlier, that employee called us ‘ladies’ and you didn’t correct her.” He was starting to doubt himself more; what if he was trying not to make waves in front of humans? What if it had been an honest slip-up, or—

“So I did.” Edge sighed, finally leaving his (pristine) clothes alone so that he could clench his fists around the steering wheel instead. “Did it make you uncomfortable, being seen and referred to as a woman in public?”

“Um. It lasted like two minutes before she was gone, so it didn’t bug me that much? It was out of place, I guess, but it really doesn’t matter all that much.” It was hard not to feel like he was being quizzed and giving all the wrong answers. “Is it _supposed_ to matter?”

“It didn’t bother me at all, being seen that way,” Edge said, chin tipping up almost...defiantly? “In fact, it’s what I _wanted_. Since I met you, I’ve wondered if that was a trait we shared, but from your wording, maybe I was wrong. If that’s grounds for breaking up, then I bid you well—”

“Edge, slow down, what the shit? I’m not going to break up with you because you’re a crossdressing ninja, isn’t that the whole point of all this?”

“Dressing this way is not crossdressing if I am in fact a woman.”

“Oh. _Oh_.” This wasn’t all because it was a kink? All the clothes Edge already owned were just... clothes? “Shit, Edge, you really think that’s enough for me to break up with you?”

“You signed up to date a male skeleton, yes.”

“And I’m _bi_ , so I’m interested regardless of your gender. You’re still the same screechy adorable asshole I ‘signed up’ for.” He hadn’t gotten far in his romantic relationships with women (fumbling explorations with Undyne before she realized she was a lesbian, friends with minimal benefits with Muffet), but this wasn’t a deal-breaker, no matter how he looked at it. Why was Edge so convinced it was?

“You’re not handling this with the shock and gravitas I was hoping for,” Edge said, glaring at him. “I took literal years to tell my brother, yet it comes out in a year of dating you? And you’re “fine” with it?”

“I mean, do you want things to change? Like... I dunno, should I be calling you my girlfriend sometimes, or ‘she?’ Or do you wanna be stealthy about it, if you’re not crazy about telling people?”

“Right now, it’s only you, Red, Undyne, and Frisk. It’s... strange, imagining everyone knowing. I’m not a woman all the time, so is it worth telling everyone about something that’s occasional? It’s one thing for everyone to think you’re merely a fashion-conscious crossdresser and another to willingly shout out vulnerable personal information out to the world. As of now, I’d rather stay your boyfriend in public. You can stick with ‘he’ as well; I’m not sure if I want to be addressed femininely yet, and it’d be more likely you’d slip up, if you started doing it in private.”

“Whatever makes you feel happy and safe, I’d do it. There’s private stuff we could do instead. We can go get you one of those gender reveal cakes that humans do. It’s a girl!” He punctuated it with jazz hands and wondered a second later if Edge would be offended by how flippant he was being.

Luckily, he snickered, muffling it into his hand. “It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?”

“Are you seriously trying to tell me you wouldn’t take an opportunity to have cake? How could you possibly say that?”

“If it was a cheap, shoddy grocery store cake covered in fondant and frosting misspellings, than yes, I’ll pass. What do you take me for? If anything, only I can be trusted to make my own gender cake.”

“You know, I’m gonna hold you to that.” Stretch leaned over the cup holders to kiss Edge, not caring if anybody walking in the gardens saw them. “All the goddamn cake and three-person, fancy-dress parties for our girlfriend, and nothing less. And I can call you Mistress in the bedroom, instead of Master, if you want.”

“Stars, you’re so sappy,” Edge breathed against his teeth before pulling back. “You’re really okay with all this? Have I been pushing crossdressing too much? Maybe I’ve been projecting all this onto you, and you didn’t tell me no—”

“Slow down, alright. I know some of this kink stuff is... intense, and I’m the inexperienced one, but you guys don’t push me into shit. I can’t think of anything we’ve done that I didn’t agree to ahead of time. And this?” He waved down at his skirt and at the bag of new shoes at his feet. “I _want_ this.”

“Do you, truly?”

It was kind of embarrassing to say out loud, but actually wearing it was a much bigger deal, so he could force the words out. “I like all the attention and being told how hot I am. Not that I need a skirt for that, but all this dress-up... I didn’t expect it to feel like this. I don’t wanna admit how many times I’ve tried this stuff on while I’m alone—jacking off in it, yeah, but also just wearing it when I’m alone. I guess I like pretty shit? And I definitely didn’t know I could get turned on by wearing a slightly different shirt and hearing Red call me Princess, but I guess that’s part of my life now.”

“That’s something I should keep in mind for later,” Edge said. That worried expression was starting to pass. “I’m sure there’s plenty of roleplay we could explore in that vein.”

“Is... is that still an option, though? With this whole crossdressing kink for me. I’m not a lady skeleton, but... I dunno, I’ve never felt that much like a dude either. I’m just a skeleton, y’know, and I wanna be a pretty set of bones for both of you to play with. Is that weird?”

“If I’m not weird, then you’re not,” Edge said firmly. “And of course we can still keep doing this. If you want to be beautiful, then by the stars, I’m going to make you feel like the most stunning monster that has ever graced this planet.”

“I’ll settle for second most stunning, I don’t wanna oust a certain gorgeous, edgy skeleton.” He winked, and Edge snorted at him. “I love you, you know that, babe?”

Edge took his hand, leaning over again to press kisses against his jaw and teeth. “You prove it to me more with each passing day; I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I handle this okay? I've been sitting on this draft for a while now. Kinda worried.
> 
> Anyway, carrying over genderfluid fell Papyrus from 'I've Seen You In Lace' because surprise continuity.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has lingerie, ectobodies and insecurity about them, specifically breasts, and sexual talk. Also a tiny mention of spiders at the start, it's like one sentence but a head's up in case. Still no actual shown sex.

“Don’t be so fuckin’ bratty, Stretch. I’ll throw you down and fuck you once I’ve got these measurements.”

“Can’t you base it off of Edge’s size? Or hell, just put me in bargain bin shit. It’ll probably get torn off anyway.” He hadn’t expected this to be the outcome of Red asking him to strip down to nothing but his boxers. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but it seemed to be taking for-goddamn-ever, and he was getting worked up. Was Red triple checking his measurements or something? He was more than ready for the throwing down and fucking part of the evening.

“Nah, only the top-shelf shit here, and it’s gonna survive at least one night. Getting it ordered takes way too long to ruin it immediately.” Why did he need to measure Stretch’s shoulders for panties? He was going overboard.

“Spider silk?” That was the only thing that came to mind for fancy fabrics. Were the Muffets keeping up with that trade on the Surface?

Red scoffed. “Ugh. Muffet always tried to hawk that shit back in the Underground, but nope. Definitely wasn’t gonna put my boss in that garbage, and not you either. You put that on, really get sexy, and suddenly five hundred tiny spiders start hatching out of the eggs laid in it. It’s awful.”

That alone was enough to give him crawly feelings, and he squirmed as Red measured his hips _again_. “Can you wrap this up so I can go take one million showers? That’s gross, and I usually _like_ spiders.”

“I’m not done here, babe. We gotta get this part figured out.” Red briefly looped the measuring tape around his rib cage. “Are you gonna be packing here, or do you want it straight on the ribs?”

“Packing? You mean...”

“I mean whether you wanna have knockers in these or not. Gotta whip those out now if you want lingerie that’ll fit them.”

Shit. Here Red was, expectant and waiting for him to conjure up a pair of tits like nothing, and he didn’t know _how_. Wouldn’t he think it was pathetic that he had never done this before? Red seemed to take his silence as disinterest and continued on talking. “If you like bare ribs better, that’s fine too, but bras aren’t gonna do much. So say that now before we get abreast of ourselves.”

“It’s not that I would mind doing that in the bedroom, but—” Moment of truth, moment of truth. His bro had always taught him to be honest in relationships, so... “—I’ve never made tits before. Kinda lost on this whole thing.”

That caught Red off guard. “Seriously? Never felt yourself up before? Holy shit, are we gonna get newly minted titties? Maybe we should wait until Boss gets off work so he won’t miss out.”

“No!” It was bad enough embarrassing himself in front of one lover. Edge could probably conjure a pair of breasts without breaking a sweat, and if he messed it up somehow... Or if they came out really ugly...

“Aww, so you wanna share them just with me? That’s so sweet.” Red’s teasing tone eased off. “You know, you don’t have to do it, but we’d love to introduce you to your tits. Magical bodies is a sometimes thing, obviously it’d take too much energy to do it a lot, but it’s hot as fuck. It’d be a great time, there’s so much you could potentially do with ‘em in the bedroom. Your choice.”

“Gonna warn you right now that this probably won’t come out right,” Stretch said, wondering what someone could do with tits aside from fondling or licking them. He had never given it much thought before.

“Here.” Red’s warm hands dropped onto his ribcage: not groping, just solidly in place. “Don’t go crazy with this, only do the torso. We can get you a cute little ass and some thighs later, if you wanna try that and fill out some bottoms, but let’s not get out of hand right now.”

“I thought the whole point was getting me _in hand_?”

“Well, you gotta have something to grab first, so go on. It’s not that different than magic for a cock or puss, just up top. Easy.”

“You say that, and I’m gonna sprout dicks off my ribs instead of boobs.” Still, as Red dropped his hands, he tried to usher magic up instead of down. With as turned on as he already was from that touching alone, it resisted him, wanting to stay in his pelvis. He overshot the first attempt, and his tongue crackled into existence. How was he supposed to focus with Red staring at him in blatant lust?

With the second try, he could feel his ribcage getting heavier and warmer, so it must have been working, but he didn’t want to watch the magic gathering around his chest. Would it be disappointing? He might come out flat-chested. Concave, even.

“Oh, _fuck yeah_ ,” Red breathed, and he dared to look down at the magic that covered from his collarbones to the bottom of his ribcage. Red already was reaching up, cupping a golden-orange breast in each hand. They were undeniably tits, just small, like little tennis balls with tinier nipples. Didn’t flesh people think bigger was better?

“Sorry, I can try again, I—” His hands fluttered in front of his chest, trying to hide it. What was the point of lingerie if he had almost nothing to show off?

“I mean, if you want another try, sure, but it takes a lot of magic to get them to do something special instead of going with what your body does normally. You’d need a lot more practice to make these babies balloon up; trust me, I’ve tried. And these are cute as fuck, 5 stars.”

“You actually like them? It’s not much of a showing.”

“Don’t fuckin’ worry, babe. If they’re attached to you, they’re hot, end of story. And I’ve got enough tit for all of us.” He stripped off his jacket and shirt in a smooth motion and, without any apparent shame or difficulty, proved himself right. Red had pendulous, heavy breasts in the same cherry red as the rest of his magic. Arms folded underneath, he lifted them up. “Yeah, I’m saggy when I go commando, but this shit looks insane in a pushup bra. Boss loves it. And it’s great for titfucking, if you’re into that.”

“Wouldn’t know,” he said weakly, mind and boner starting to go crazy.

“If you’re well-behaved, today’ll be your lucky day.” Any hope of Red not noticing his hard-on was lost as he pressed close to him. “But only if you let me finish your measurements already.”

He expected Red to deboob and redress himself, but he didn’t bother as he retrieved the measuring tape. Was it an attempt to make Stretch feel more comfortable with a chest, or was it just pride in his assets? And he definitely noticed Stretch shiver as he pulled the tape close, right over his nipples. “We’re gonna need to figure out if you’ve got naturally sensitive nips, or if it’s just because they’re new,” he said, and it couldn’t have been Stretch’s imagination that he was taking his time with his measurements. “Can’t wait to play with them.”

“If you’d just hurry up, you’d get your chance right now.”

“Be a little more patient, alright? You haven’t even said _what_ lingerie you want. I could make it a surprise, but if you hate it, that’d be a bonerkiller, right? Only the best for our little princess.”

He tried to ignore the thrill that pet name sent through him. “...The normal kind? I’m not that picky.”

“...Normal kind. Stretch, you’re gonna need to be a little more specific. What’s _normal?_ ”

Was Red fucking with him, or was he coming off as an idiot? “You know, normal, basic. Bra and panties? Something that’s not covered in spiders?”

“Oh, honey.” Red fumbled around in his discarded jacket for his phone. “There’s so much more than that. Gonna show you the world.”

-

And that was that, for a few weeks. For the most part, he put it out of mind, only practicing making breasts a few times. It had been too achingly sensitive to enjoy more than a few seconds of Red’s groping, so he had left without learning the mysteries of breastplay. And fooling around with them himself didn’t work when he hadn’t perfected the magic yet.

Moved his arms too much? Tits were gone. His shirt brushed over his nipples in a weird way? No breasts here, what were you talking about? He didn’t want his newfound parts to evaporate in the middle of sex just because he hadn’t had enough practice maintaining them. He couldn’t manage to make them bigger, but that was probably for the best. His new shirts wouldn’t have fit over a chest as big as Red’s, and it was kind of convenient how he could practice them whenever, with his hoodie concealing it.

Had Red told Edge about it yet? It seemed weird for Red to keep secrets from him, but if he knew, wouldn’t he have mentioned it already? It felt wrong to keep it from him, but he kind of wanted to _bust_ it out in fancy lingerie. If he was disappointed, which he had to be, dressing up would soften the blow. He wouldn’t like the present, but at least the wrapping was nice.

When Red texted him, telling him that his new lingerie had arrived, he was actually kind of excited. Mostly nervous, but there was a tiny bit of excitement in there. Of course Edge made a stay-home date of it, with a fancy dinner and ice cream, cuddled on the couch together. He was feeling pretty damn seduced before they had gotten to the bedroom, but his legs were shaking as they headed upstairs.

Red handed him the box that had been waiting on Edge’s bed, grinning widely. “Go get changed in the bathroom, yeah? There’s not any straps or shit we’d need to help you with, like Boss’s harnesses.”

He clutched at it, hearing tissue paper crinkling inside. “Why can’t I do it in here?”

“For dramatic effect,” Edge said. He was trying to hide it, but the faint blush rising on his cheekbones gave away his excitement. “Having an initial reveal is far more exciting; just watching you put it on has no anticipation. And don’t worry, you won’t be the only one dressing up. We have our own surprises for you.”

...Well, wouldn’t embarrassing himself be worth seeing them dolled up too? And he could still tap out if it was too much. He headed into the bathroom, locking the door behind him, and he could already hear them undressing, Edge faintly telling Red to fold his clothes for once. Setting the box on the sink, he untied the ribbon closing it and lifted the lid.

He could feel something extremely soft as he shifted the tissue paper out of the way. There was a hint of pale pink, and he soon uncovered it, lifting it up to the mirror. Red had showed him examples on his phone, but actually holding it up to himself actually made the whole thing real, instead of just a joke to be forgotten in a few days. What had he called it again? A babydoll? It was like someone had cut a nightgown in half; it would barely cover his pelvis. Luckily (?) there was a pair of matching panties as well.

He could hear them shuffling around in the other room while he was still staring at it. Could he really wear something like this? It looked comfortable, no tight straps or itchy lace, which was a plus, but...

No, he could do this, he told himself resolutely, stripping off his clothes before he could think about it and leaving them piled on top of the laundry basket. Any embarrassment and awkwardness would be outweighed by getting to see them in lingerie, and whatever fucking that would probably result. Even if he looked like an idiot, it was still a win.

The panties came first, and he was surprised to realize that they felt even softer on his pelvis than they were against his fingers. Summoning a torso out of magic was as far as he had gotten, and creating anything below the waist, aside from junk, eluded him, so Red had settled for measurements of his bare pelvis. Had Red been disappointed that he hadn’t gotten the hang of forming an ass? Would these panties look weird on plain bone? Would his socks still fit if he formed thighs to wear them on?

It took a few minutes of deliberation, but he passed on thigh highs, deciding to go bare-legged. If he had managed to construct thighs, would that cover up the scars? That could be the motivation he needed to keep practicing.

His magic was slow to respond from nerves, but as he stared at himself in the mirror, he slowly filled out his torso, tiny nipples already hard. Was this going to be good enough for Edge? Red had seemed convincingly appreciative of his minimal assets, but would Edge as well? Maybe he would be disappointed that his counterpart didn’t have the same perfect control of his magic.

A knock at the door made him jump, nearly dropping the tiny babydoll. “Need some help in there, darling? I’d be happy to add in my expertise.”

“Uh, no! I’m good. Promise.” He didn’t think Red would teleport in, but he didn’t want them to get impatient. It was easy to duck into it, though he stared in the mirror, taking in just how much pelvis it left exposed. He resisted the urge to pull down the nightie and cover himself; it wasn’t meant to stretch that far, and it was mostly see-through anyway. It _was_ comfortable, if kind of breezy, but would they like it? Would their lingerie outpace his?

There was only so long he could hide in the bathroom, not if he still wanted to get dicked down at some point. Cautiously, he eased the door open and peeked out. It seemed like they had started without him. Red was kneeling over Edge as he laid out on the bed, probably manhandled there. From that angle, he could really only see Red’s back. Well, that and a plentiful, magically created ass barely contained by the black underwear he was wearing.

“Uh—” Red looked back over his shoulder at him, his eyelights flickering as he looked Stretch over. He was wearing some sort of top that shoved up his breasts, made out of silky-looking black fabric. It was pretty plain, but he had enough assets that it didn’t matter. “Oh, shit. You look precious as fuck!”

While he was distracted, Edge shoved him off, and he tumbled to the side of the bed. In comparison to them, Edge looked like he was straight out of an antique pinup: a red and black corset, black lace stockings held up with a garter belt, matching panties. Like Red had told him, he wasn’t as well-endowed, but he still had a lot more going on than Stretch did. He looked absurdly elegant, like he was ready for a photo shoot for goth models or something.

Both of them had outdone him, but they beckoned him anyway. “Come here, Stretch. Let us see you in your glory.” Edge gestured him over, and he crawled across the bed towards them. It wasn’t really possible to keep the hem down, and he just had to accept that they were getting a sneak peek of the panties. Both of them had magic from the neck down to the thighs, and he wondered if it was a disappointment that his didn’t extend that far.

Red dragged him into an exceptionally squishy hug. Was that how humans and most monsters felt all the time? No bones clicking or slotting together, just a press of warm magic. “I told you his magic was sexy as hell, Boss. Wouldn’t make that shit up.”

“As if I could have ever doubted it,” Edge said, fingertips skimming the hem of his get-up. “You look like an innocent about to be debauched.”

“Um. Was that the goal?”

“Do you _want_ that to be the goal? We can definitely make that happen; we’ve basically got the set dressing for a dominatrix roleplay, if you feel like it. Don’t think your new duds would hold up under a flogger, but there’s plenty of other shit to try that’d keep it intact. We could try out those nipple clamps I told you about.” Red leered at him, hand running up his femur.

He could imagine the scene Red was thinking of, a dominatrix instructing a new pupil with an innocent monster to corrupt with pain and pleasure, but...

But running into a doorway the other day had been enough pain to break his concentration and make it all vanish, and his control had barely improved since then. One of them biting or pinching his nipples would be all it took to make the fun explode into a cloud of orange. They would’ve gotten all dressed up for nothing, just because he sucked at body magic. And if he did hold onto it, would it be enjoyable with how sensitive they still were?

He didn’t want to disappoint them, but he didn’t think there was much chance he would like it.

“You’re shivering, is everything alright? Should we turn up the thermostat?” Edge drew closer, pulling the blanket up around him. He was covering up the fancy lingerie they had bought for him, but he couldn’t help it, not when everything was suddenly cold.

“I mean, not wearing a lot of fabric here, how can I not be a little chilly? I guess you two have to keep me warm.” He laughed, but neither of them seemed convinced. “I wanna play, but could we just...do something basic tonight? Not giving a hard no to nipple clamps or whatever, but not right now. These are still new, so could you be careful with them?” He cringed into the blanket.

“We don’t have to do anything painful, you know,” Edge said. And he _did_ know, and he shouldn’t have needed them to keep repeating it, and it wasn’t like the entire pleasant evening was ruined because he didn’t want to play with a single toy from their enormous collection. “Anything you want us to do with your breasts, or nothing at all—you could play with ours instead, if you’d like.” Red grinned at that, clearly up for it, but Edge looked solemn, ready to call everything off in a second.

The raw sincerity on Edge’s face was almost too much to handle, and he surged forward to kiss him, tongue wrapping around his, Edge’s slim but soft thighs against his bare femurs. He was breathless by the time they parted, panting his next words out. “Tell you what, I’ll make it a challenge. Let’s see if I can keep these summoned while you guys do your worst, as long as it’s not intentionally painful, for say....10 minutes? And if I can keep my magic going that long, I get control of what happens tonight—maybe _I_ get to be the dominatrix. But if my magic can’t hold out, then you get to punish me.” Knowing them, that outcome would end up being just as enjoyable.

He wanted to practice with them, wasn’t this a good way to try? And by the end of ten minutes, he’d probably have a good idea if boob-touching was for him or not. From the way they advanced on him, pulling the blanket up around the three of them, it seemed like they liked the idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this is going down in quality because it's summer and I'm barely functional. (Are there typos?) 
> 
> Also, 3/4 instead of 3/3? There's not like....an established end, as of right now. Chapter 4 (or what I have of it so far) doesn't really have a sense of finality to it. Not sure if that's just how it's gonna be, or if that implies a chapter 5 that I don't have any plans for yet.


End file.
